


Beyond the Sea

by Elise_Madrid



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elise_Madrid/pseuds/Elise_Madrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk has trouble dealing with the aftermath of Genesis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Helen for graciously allowing the use of her CGA, which inspired this story.

  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/gilda_elise/pic/000871s3/)   


 

The chronometer next to the bed read sixteen hundred hours. Kirk wearily wondered where the last hour and a half had gone. Certainly not to sleep. He’d thought that’s what he had needed after finally being released from Starfleet headquarters. They’d grilled him for hours. After apparently getting what they were after, he’d been ordered to take three days leave, as if three days would be enough to reorder his entire life.

He rolled onto his side, away from the slip of light shining through the break in the curtains. He was so tired. He’d slept badly the night before, the thoughts that had chased around in his mind for the last twenty-four hours unwilling to go away. Everything was so different now.

Giving it up as a lost cause, he sat up, not bothering with his shoes as he stood and made his way into the living room. If he couldn’t sleep there was no reason to deny himself the drink he craved.

Pouring himself a small glass of whiskey, he walked over to the wide expanse of windows that looked out onto the Bay. It had been the reason they had bought the place. He and Spock had turned to each other and, without a word being said, the decision had been made.

He smiled bitterly. Yet another memory no longer to be shared. The place was full of them. How many years here? Sixteen? No, seventeen. Good years. He snorted. Hell, they had been great years. They hadn’t always spent a lot of time here; there’d been the five-year missions, before and after those three unfortunate years when Spock was gone and Kirk had done about the most stupid thing imaginable and married Lori Ciani. But when they had finally settled down, each taking positions that kept them on Earth most of the time, they’d made the most of being able to sleep together every night.

He turned away, not wanting to think about what he’d lost, and approached his chair in front of the fireplace. Placing his glass on the nearby table, he turned on the fire, the flames leaping up as the fuel reached the pilot light.

He settled into his chair, the heat of the fire warming him. He hadn’t understood it at first, why he was so cold all the time. But finally the answer had come to him; Spock’s heat was gone. The all-encompassing warmth of their bond had died along with him.

Kirk shivered and took a heavy swig of his drink. Did one ever get used to those words? He damned the day he had ever allowed Khan his freedom. He should have turned the man over to the Federation, let them lock him away, somewhere where he never would have seen the light of day again. Or better yet, he should have phasered him out of existence. But he hadn’t, and now everything had turned to dust in his hands.

Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine Spock as he had been the morning of Kirk’s birthday, before the training mission and Carol’s frantic call.

Kirk didn’t normally wake before his bondmate, but that morning he had. He’d turned over and propped himself up on his elbow. Next to him, Spock slept on in an inelegant sprawl, one arm thrown over his head, the other resting on his belly. His legs were slightly splayed, with one knee bent so that the covers tented over Spock’s lower body.

He hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d slowly pulled the blanket down until his bondmate’s body was completely exposed. He loved this body, even as it had finally started to thicken with age. On Spock, it looked good. It had given him a look of strength not apparent in the whip-thin body of his youth. And when you threw in the soft spray of chest hair that had driven Kirk crazy from the first time he’d run his fingers through it, it made the Vulcan nearly irresistible. His gaze lowered to Spock’s groin. The Vulcan’s penis was not quite quiescent. Even as he watched it enlarged, uncurling from its nest of pubic hair. Kirk looked up into bondmate’s face.

Spock’s eyes had opened and his mouth had formed into a lazy smile. He’d pulled Kirk into his arms and they had made mad, passionate love.

Kirk felt the sting of tears behind his eyelids. No, no tears. There had been enough of those in their cabin after that ridiculous scene on the bridge. Young, indeed. He felt ancient. But that was his burden to bear and he’d show his grief to no one. But once alone, he’d fallen apart.

He couldn’t even call the wails of pain that had been torn from him crying; more of an exorcism of unimaginable loss and deep regret. Later, after he’d pulled himself together and thrown water on his face, he’d walled off his grief and returned to duty.

Alone, he felt so alone. How did they expect him to rest when his mind still sought that which it had lost? But the warmth of the fire, coupled with the heat that was settling in his stomach slowly began to relax him. His eyes fluttered shut.

~~~~~

He came awake with a start. What had woke him? He felt himself sliding back into sleep when the doorbell rang. Kirk sat up and rubbed his face, trying to push away the disorientation that still held him. Struggling to his feet, he made his way over to the door and activated the viewer.

Damn, the last person he wanted to see was Carol Marcus. Another relationship filled with regret. With a sigh, he pasted a look of welcome on his face and opened the door.

“Carol.”

“Hello, Jim.” She looked behind him curiously. “May I come in?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, come in.” He stepped aside. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” he asked as he took her coat.

“I’m worried about David.”

“Oh.” He didn’t want to talk about his son; he barely knew the boy and he had other things on his mind. He motioned her over to the fireplace. “Would you like a drink?”

“I’d love one. Scotch, if you have it.” She sat in the chair next to his. Spock’s chair.

“Coming right up.” He turned away, not liking the resentment that bubbled up. It wasn’t her fault. Not all of it, anyway.

He poured her a drink and walked back, handing it to her before taking his seat. “Did you hear from David?”

“Yes, and that’s the problem.” She absentmindedly took a sip of her drink. “He sounds...I don’t know, distracted is the closest I can come. His mind really isn’t on the project.”

“He seemed rather taken with Lt. Saavik. Perhaps that’s the distraction.”

“No, it’s more than that. If it were Saavik, he’d be even more focused because she’s there helping him. But he’s not. It’s almost as if he no longer wants anything to do with the Genesis project.”

Kirk looked down. “It has a lot of tragedy associated with it now.”

“I know.” She reached out and placed her hand over his. “You miss your friend, don’t you?”

“Friend?” It took him a few moments to puzzle it out. “Oh, you mean Spock.”

“Who else would I mean?”

“I don’t know. No one. It’s just that,” he rubbed at his forehead, “I quit thinking of Spock as my ‘friend’ a long time ago.”

“Wasn’t he? I remember the time I bumped into the two of you near the bay. That was, what, almost fifteen years ago? David was so curious about Spock. Afterwards, that’s all he talked about for days. You seemed very close then.”

“We are....were. It’s just that Spock was so much more than my ‘friend,’ Carol. We were together.”

“Together?”

“Together. A couple.” He almost laughed at her surprise. “You didn’t know? God, I thought everyone did.”

“We didn’t exactly travel in the same circles, Jim. How long were the two of you together?”

“About eighteen years, give or take a few.”

“What does that mean?”

“We, uh, had a few bumps in the road. We separated for awhile right after the first mission ended. That day you saw us, we’d only been back together a few months.”

“I’m glad for you, even if somewhat surprised. I didn’t think...”

He smiled. “That I liked men? It didn’t happen very often. I think if I hadn’t met Spock I’d probably have ended up with a woman. But once he came into my life,” he shook his head, “I knew there could never be anyone else for me.”

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Me, too.” He cleared his throat. “But you didn’t come here to talk about me and Spock.”

“No, I came to ask you a favor. I want you to go with me to get David.”

“Why?”

“I know this sounds crazy, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s in danger. That something bad is going to happen.”

“Like what? Carol, he’s on a Starfleet vessel. I’m sure they’ve taken plenty of precautions.”

“I don’t care, I know something’s wrong, I know it.”

“That won’t be much of an argument. Besides, what makes you think he’ll listen to either one of us?”

“I don’t know that he will, but it’s worth a try. Don’t ask me to explain it because I can’t. But I need you to come with me. Right now. The ship’s waiting and we can be at Genesis in less than a day. Please, Jim. If you ever cared for me at all, if you feel anything at all for _him,_ leave with me. Now.”

He didn’t want to do this. It seemed wrong somehow, as if he was dallying with fate. But he couldn’t say no to her, so the next thing he knew he was on a ship heading toward a rendezvous with the _Grissom._

~~~~~

“Are you crazy?”

Kirk almost replied that, yes, they probably were. They’d reached the _Grissom_ faster than Kirk would have thought possible. Maybe because he didn’t want to be here, it seemed to him that no time at all had passed since he’d walked out of his apartment. Yet, here he was, on the bridge of the _Grissom,_ having what was essentially a family squabble in front of the entire bridge crew.

“Your mother was worried. And after hearing what she had to say, so was I.”

“Admiral, we were about to transport down to the planet. The sensors have just picked up indication of animal life,” Saavik interjected.

Kirk heard Carol gasp.

“That’s not possible. We didn’t enable animal life in the Genesis matrix.”

“But it’s there and we need to go down and find out why.” David’s tone was a mixture of aggression and defensiveness.

Carol Marcus’s eyes narrowed as she studied her son. “You did something, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re lying to me, David.”

Even Kirk could see that. The boy was a lousy liar. And then his eyes were drawn to Saavik, who was giving David a penetrating look.

“You appeared...distracted at the discovery, not surprised.” Saavik said the words as if trying to work out an equation that suddenly made no sense.

“I thought perhaps Kahn had done something to Genesis before he released it. He had it long enough—and he had the intelligence.”

“Are you saying there’s something wrong with Genesis?” Captain Esteban asked. Up until now, the _Grissom’s_ captain had stood quietly aside.

“There could be. I’d almost bet there is,” Carol Marcus answered.

Kirk was surprised by her response but hid it. He knew what Carol was doing. He wasn’t sure he approved of her methods (as if he hadn’t used them himself,) but this was her son she was using them against. Esteban wouldn’t force David away from Genesis just because his mother wanted him home. But now the safety of his ship could be involved.

“That’s it. I thought this entire project was a bunch of scientific mumbo-jumbo to begin with.” He turned to his helmsman. “Set course for Earth. I’m sure Starfleet will be more than interested in hearing what Dr. Marcus—what Dr. Carol Marcus has to say.”

“You can’t do that!” David raged. He wheeled around toward Kirk. Apparently, the vast majority of his anger was to be directed at his father.

“This is your fault. If you hadn’t agreed to come with her, she probably wouldn’t have come at all.”

“If you think that, you don’t know your mother very well.”

“I know her better than you do. You were with her, what, seven months?” David sneered. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’ve done some checking the last few days. You bedded her and then when she ended up pregnant, you left.”

“That’s not true. I wanted to stay. Things just...they just...” How could he explain to David without damning Carol? But didn’t she share the blame for this, too?

“And none of this would ever have happened if you’d had the sense to imprison Khan.”

He knew that was true. He hadn’t been able to get the thought out of his mind ever since Spock’s death, hadn’t been able to stop castigating himself over it. But he had been young and idealistic, willing to believe that a man like Kahn, a man who had helped enslave an entire world, would somehow change. He had been a fool and now he was paying for it.

He abruptly turned on his heels and left the bridge. He’d done what Carol had wanted. Again. His duty to her was over.

~~~~~

Somehow, Carol had persuaded David and Saavik to return with her and Kirk. How that had happened Kirk had no idea. He had left for the transporter room and their ship and had been sitting in the pilot’s seat waiting for Carol to rejoin him when the three had appeared together.

Just great, he thought to himself. “Are you ready to return to Earth?”

“Do we have a choice in the matter?” David asked sullenly.

Kirk sighed in frustration. It was like dealing with a child. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He spun his seat around and started the engines. He turned on the front viewer just in time to see the _Grissom_ leap into warp drive.

He could hear Carol and David arguing, though their voices were muted. Yet the anger was there for all to hear. Eventually, they left. To argue in private, he assumed. Kirk thought he’d been alone for at least a couple of hours, but it could just as well have been only minutes before Saavik came up and took the seat next to him. Her tricorder was still hanging from her shoulder and it made his heart hurt.

“How’s David?”

“He is disappointed.”

“Yeah, I caught that,” Kirk remarked. “He’ll get over it.”

Saavik looked at him. “Would you?”

“I have.” He snorted inelegantly at her look. “Why is it that everyone thinks I’ve always gotten everything I’ve wanted?”

“Have you not?”

“No, Lieutenant, I haven’t. And what I did get, well, let’s see. I’ve lost my ship, I have a son who can’t make up his mind whether he wants anything to do with me or not and, worse than all the rest, I’ve lost the one person who made it all worthwhile.”

“You mourn for what you have lost; he mourns for what will never be.” She unslung her tricorder and placed it on her lap, staring at the instrument as if it held all the answers. “Within this is all that is left of his dreams.”

“He’s young, he has plenty of time to replace them.”

“No, I think not. When Starfleet reviews the records, I suspect they will have many questions, questions he may be forced to answer.”

He turned and really looked at her. There was a tenseness to her that he’d never seen before. “What did you find out?”

“That he used protomatter in order for Genesis to work. Or not work, as has been the case.” She finally looked at him then. “He is very much like you.”

“He’s nothing like me,” Kirk shot back. “Yes, I changed the rules for the Kobiyashi Maru, but no one died because of it. I never gambled with someone else’s life unless I had no choice. There’s a big difference between taking risks in order to successfully complete a mission and, by the way, save lives, and cheating because you’re too impatient to wait for success.” He shook his head. “Do you honestly believe Spock would have had anything to do with me if I were the reckless cowboy my reputation seems to have led everyone to believe? If the chances I took were for my own benefit? If you do, then you didn’t know him, either.”

She didn’t respond, merely continued to gaze at the tricorder. The silence was finally broken by a signal that a message was incoming. He reached out and toggled the switch.

“Kirk here.”

“Admiral, this is Uhura.”

Kirk frowned. She sounded upset.

“What’s the matter?”

“Admiral, have you reached Genesis yet?”

“We’ve come and gone. Why?”

“You had a visit from Sarek. When he couldn’t find you, he tried to contact Dr. McCoy.”

“Did he find him? Why didn’t McCoy call me?”

“Because,” there was a moment’s hesitation. “Dr. McCoy is on his way to Vulcan. He’s...he’s very sick.”

“Uhura, what’s going on? What’s wrong with him?”

“When we told Sarek that we had left Mr. Spock’s body on Genesis, he became...upset. I know that sounds crazy, but that’s the only way to explain his reaction. After he saw Dr. McCoy he said you had to retrieve the body because Mr. Spock apparently placed his katra, his soul, inside of Dr. McCoy. That’s what is making him ill.”

“I don’t understand. How could Spock put his soul in McCoy?”

“I’m not sure. But the moment Sarek saw McCoy he knew what had happened. He thinks that if you can bring Spock’s body to Vulcan, they can put his katra back inside of it.”

“Are you saying that they can bring Spock back to life?” An irrational hope began to build within him. To have Spock back.

“They’re not sure but Sarek believes so.”

“Listen, tell Sarek we’re going to turn around right now. We’re only a couple of hours away from Gen—”

“It is gone.”

“What?” He turned to Saavik, who was checking the sensors.

“I thought to begin scanning Genesis as soon as I realized we would be returning. There is nothing there.”

“What are you saying? Where is it?”

“The use of protomatter must have made it highly unstable. I would surmise that the planet has blown up.”

He stood, the open transmitter forgotten. “Spock’s body, it’s gone?”

“Yes,” she responded. She turned to him then, and he saw that she was crying.

He felt something tear inside. He staggered into the center of the control room and sank to his knees. Not again, please, not again. He wanted to cry out, release the pain that was building inside of him but all he could manage was a wild keening. Why hadn’t he known? Why hadn’t Spock said something to him?

Finally, he managed to force words past the tightness in his throat.

“I’ve lost him again. Dear god, I’ve lost him again.” He bit down on his lip to stop the sob that threatened.

“Admiral.”

He felt hands clutching his biceps and thrashed against their hold.

“Admiral.”

“I can’t do this again, I can’t—”

 _“Admiral, wake up.”_

Kirk jolted awake. He looked around wildly. He was in his home, sitting in his chair before the fireplace. Spock knelt at his side.

“Are you all right?”

Kirk rubbed his hands over his face and took a shaky breath. “I...I think so.”

Spock’s hands were still holding him. As if only then noticing, the Vulcan slowly released him and moved away, taking the other seat. “You were dreaming.”

“Yes.”

“It must have been quite disturbing.”

Kirk chuckled nervously. “You might say.” He gazed at Spock. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It is of no concern.”

“The healer said you needed rest.”

“He also said I would need nourishment. It is time to prepare our evening meal.” With that he stood and walked toward the kitchen.

Kirk covered his mouth, afraid he still might lose it. The dream had been so real, what could have been if they hadn’t gotten to Genesis in time. He would have lost Spock a second time.

 _But haven’t you already?_

Had he? Spock was almost a stranger to him now, a half-known companion but no longer lover or bondmate. And once Starfleet came to some sort of decision, he could lose him forever.

He wearily rose and followed Spock into the kitchen. By the time he entered the rom, Spock had already pulled out a container of food, divided it up between them and was in the process of heating it. Kirk took a seat at the table, watching as Spock went through the motions of preparing dinner.

“It smells good. What is it?”

Spock picked up a container and looked at the label taped to the side. “Vegetable soup.”

“Oh.” Kirk hadn’t known at first where all this food had come from. They’d returned home to find their kitchen fully stocked and the place dusted and aired out. It was hard to imagine but apparently Sarek had seen to it. With everything else he had to deal with, Spock’s father had found the time to see to their needs. Spock’s relationship with both his parents had changed a great deal over the years. Now they, too, had lost a dear and beloved relationship with their son.

“Would you like anything else?” Spock asked as he placed a bowl of soup in front of Kirk. Taking the seat across from him, he sat and waited for Kirk’s response.

“No, this is fine.” Kirk picked up his spoon. “You go right ahead and eat. If I want anything else I’ll get it myself. But I’m not that hungry.”

“You must eat. You have not taken adequate nourishment since leaving Earth for Genesis.”

“How do you know?”

“I was so informed by Dr. McCoy. He feels you are not taking proper care of yourself.”

“I’m fine.” Kirk took a spoonful of soup. His entire system seemed to revolt and he had to force himself to continue eating.

“No, you are not.”

Kirk stopped and placed his spoon on the table. He could feel himself losing what little control he still retained. “I think I’d know if there was something wrong with me.”

“I...” Spock stopped, a look of confusion and pain crossing his face, only to be swiftly replaced with the passive countenance he had worn since being brought back to life.

Kirk sighed and then reached across the table to place his hand on Spock’s. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting that you really don’t know me anymore.”

“One of my many failings.”

“No, it’s not a failing and it’s certainly not your fault. It’s just hard, that’s all, and it makes me...edgy.”

“You must miss your son and your ship very much.”

“That’s part of it, yes, but it’s you I miss, Spock.”

“Me? But I am here.”

Kirk gave a sad smile and used his other hand to tap two fingers against his temple. “But you’re not in here.”

Spock tilted his head and studied Kirk as if seeing him for the first time. “It did not occur to me that the loss of the bond would affect you so deeply.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“You are human.”

He bit back a retort. The old Spock would have known how ridiculous a statement that was. He would have known the pain Kirk felt, the ripped and unhealed ends of the bond like a sore tooth in his mind. Why didn’t he?

“What do you feel?”

Spock grimaced slightly. “An emptiness, as if I am only half of what I was.” He looked away and drew his hand back from underneath Kirk’s. “There was much lost.”

“But the healers said it would return eventually.”

“How can they know?” He looked back at Kirk. “What was done had not been done in all of recorded history, was mere legend. They cannot know what is to become of me. Only time will reveal that.”

“And that’s the one thing we don’t have.”

“You speak of your trial. Do you still believe the Federation will press charges against you?”

“I have no idea. All I can do is hope they take the unique situation into consideration. Other than that...” He gave a little shrug and then asked the question that had been on his mind ever since Spock had asked to come back to Earth with them. “What will you do? If I’m imprisoned, will you stay here or go back to Vulcan?”

“I do not know. When I am with you...”

“Yes?”

“It’s as if I can almost remember, as if my memories are just out of reach but there nevertheless. If we are permanently separated, I do not know if I will ever be able to retrieve them.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m glad I’m being some sort of help for you.”

“You have given everything for me.” Spock quieted a moment before asking hesitantly. “Why? Why would you do so?”

“Spock, we were bondmates. Why wouldn’t I?”

“When I...died, the bond was no more. Your duty to me was over.”

“I love you. Don’t you remember that?”

Spock appeared to be trying to pull those memories from his mind. Finally, he shook his head. “I hear your words but they have no substance.”

“Then you don’t remember loving me, either, do you?”

Spock shook his head again. “So much of our lives together has been lost. What remains is not enough to allow comprehension of what I may once have felt. I am sorry.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come back eventually. I’m sure of it.”

But he wasn’t, and as he choked down the rest of his meal he wondered if they would both spend the rest of their lives this way, lost in a limbo of misplaced memories and shattered dreams.

~~~~~

Spock heard the shower turn off and then the slightly off-key singing that accompanied Kirk as he toweled his body dry. When the door opened and Kirk stepped out, wearing pajama bottoms and his robe securely fastened, Spock pretended to be asleep. It was easier that way.

Through slitted eyes, he watched the human walk over to the chair positioned in the corner of their bedroom next to a window. Kirk sat and turned the lamp on low. Rummaging around for his glasses, he slipped them on and picked up the book he’d started before. Before all that had happened had happened.

Spock didn’t know why he gained such satisfaction from watching Kirk. It had come upon him the day that his memories of their status as bondmates had surfaced. He’d been disturbed by the idea. Kirk had been his commanding officer; the idea that the two of them had also been intimate was disconcerting. But with that knowledge in hand, he had walked out onto the bluff that overlooked the area where Kirk and the rest of his people worked on the Klingon ship.

It had been easy to pick out Kirk. It was as if his whole body had zeroed in on the human. He’d stifled the flair of arousal that had coursed through his body when Kirk, perspiring from the heat and his labor, had removed his shirt. After that, Spock had watched him every day, forever puzzling over the fact of their previous bond and the phantom link that connected them still.

But how much? Earlier at dinner, Spock had felt the emanations of distress that seemed to radiate off his bondmate in waves, coming and going with dismaying regularity. Whatever held them together, it did not appear to be enough to bring contentment.

A trickle of perspiration rolled down the side of Kirk’s face. With an impatient swipe, he brushed it away. The bedroom was kept slightly above Earth norm, enough so that Spock could sleep comfortably, but not so much that Kirk would normally be uncomfortable. Yet after another moment Kirk made a sound of disgust and, putting his book aside, struggled out of his robe. He blew out a puff of air and then returned to his reading.

Spock felt an immediate arousal, his penis swelling at the sight of the half-naked man. He didn’t have the controls anymore to will it away. He’d tried. Lying next to Kirk the night before, Spock had felt an overwhelming desire. But they had not participated in sexual congress since his rebirth.

He wondered if perhaps Kirk no longer felt the need. He’d gone out of his way to keep from touching him, the space between them a no man’s land. Spock had thought to ask Kirk about it but, as everything else, the true communication that had been the mainstay of their relationship had failed them. Uncomfortable with the sexual desire he had for Kirk, he’d been unable to formulate a direct inquiry. Kirk had taken his ramblings as yet another example of what had been lost. Spock was inexplicably saddened by that.

It was more than an hour later when Kirk finally put aside his book. Spock watched as he turned off the light, waiting a moment to allow his eyes to adjust before approaching the bed. He kicked off his slippers and then cautiously pulled the covers down. Slipping into bed, Kirk settled on his side, facing away from Spock.

The space between them seemed to stretch out, leaving each separate and alone. Spock turned away, their bodies back to back, and closed his eyes.

~~~~~

“Are you getting cold?” Kirk asked. He’d insisted on Spock bringing a jacket, but with the wind blowing in off the bay, he wasn’t sure if that was enough.

“I am experiencing no difficulty.”

Kirk smiled. Spock could always be rather brusque when his attention was focused on something. That, at least, had not changed. And that was, after all, what they were out here for. They both needed something to focus on other than each other.

They had both awakened early and had started the day on the wrong foot, Kirk being too solicitous, Spock quiet and withdrawn. At one point Kirk had almost wished Starfleet would get on with it, haul him in and throw him in jail. It couldn’t be any worse than this. But then he’d looked at Spock and seen the confusion the Vulcan was trying so desperately to hide, and his love for the man had overpowered any feelings of discontent. They would soldier on as best they could.

After lunch Kirk had suggested a stroll along the shore. Their home had escaped damage from the torrential storms produced by the probe, thanks to the gates that had been put in place during the last century to protect the bay from such occurrences. Kirk wanted to see if the rest of the area had fared as well.

It was a short but silent walk from their home to the Marina Green. For once, Kirk didn’t have to remind Spock to slow down, the Vulcan’s longer legs having always taken them out of step if Spock didn’t pay attention. It had always struck Kirk odd that during the years of the first mission it had never been a problem. Only afterwards, after V’Ger, had Spock sometimes seem to go off in his own little world, one that even his bondmate could not enter. Now, it seemed as if Spock spent most of his time there.

They kept to a leisurely pace, watching the few boats that were out skim across the water. Here and there they could see where the wind had caused some slight damage but the gates had held and the flooding had been minimal. Still, the area seemed quieter than usual, as if the city’s residents weren’t quite ready to believe they were safe. That was fine with Kirk.

He glanced at Spock, who appeared captivated by the ocean. The breeze ruffling his hair brought memories of a happier time. They hadn’t usually had a lot of free time, but when they had Kirk would make a point of getting them out on the water. They’d hire a sail boat and spend the day letting the wind take them where it may. When it would die down, more than once they had spent the time making love in the cabin.

God, but he missed the feel of the Vulcan’s hands on his body, Spock’s heat covering him, filling him. The couple of nights he’d spent alone in their apartment, thinking Spock dead and willing to give up anything to have him back, had been the worst of his life. Well, he’d given up practically everything and things weren’t much better.

He pressed his lips together and chastised himself for the thought. He had Spock back. And if they never made love again, then that was yet another thing he was willing to give up if it meant that Spock was still at his side. So lost in his own thoughts, it was several moments before he realized that he was practically running to keep up with the Vulcan.

“Spock, wait a minute, will you?” Spock!”

Spock didn’t slow down, even as he veered to the left, leaving the boulevard behind.

“Where are you going?” Kirk shouted.

Spock slipped between a stand of trees and was lost from sight. Kirk hurried after, afraid of what could happen. Though the Vulcan seemed aware of his surroundings, too much had changed for Kirk to be comfortable letting him go off on his own.

He needn’t have worried. Taking the path through the trees, he found Spock standing at the beginning of a line of columns. Kirk slowed and cautiously approached him.

“What is this place?” Spock asked.

“It’s the Palace of Fine Arts.”

Spock turned to him, a frown on his face. “Palace?”

Kirk chuckled. “Well, that’s what it’s called.” He studied Spock’s face. “Do you remember it?”

“I...I do not know.”

“We used to come here at night. You said it was a good place to meditate. Come on, I’ll show you where you used to go.”

Kirk drew Spock forward, following the columns that lined the path until they came to the central building. Together, they walked through the domed structure to the man-made lagoon on the other side.

“Right here. You would kneel right here and I would sit over there.” He pointed to the grassy area to the right.

Spock gazed out into the water. “It seems...familiar. As if it is a place I know well.”

“You do. Over the years, we came here quite often.”

Spock turned to him. “Yet I feel that sadness is part of what you feel about this place.”

“When you were at Gol, I used to come here and remember.” He looked down, unable to meet Spock’s gaze. “That was a rough time for me. I don’t remember ever feeling so lonely.” Until now.

“I seem to recall something...” Spock tilted his head and was silent for several moments. “We kissed. Here in this place.”

“Yes, once. It was dark and no one was around. You had just returned from Gol and I wanted you so badly, all the time. It was all I could do to wait until we returned home to....to touch you.”

Odd how he’d placed Carol here in his dream. She had met Spock, but not here and certainly not then. Had that been his mind making her the intruder once more? She and David? Disrupting his life with their mere presence? However much he tried not to, he blamed them for a lot. Almost as much as he blamed himself.

“Yet, we no longer...touch.”

Kirk stared, unsure how to respond. “I didn’t...I—”

“You thought I did not desire it?”

“I...no, I didn’t. We’re not bonded anymore.”

“And we never shared such between us before the bond?”

Of course they had. From the first time he’d dared show Spock his desire after Spock’s aborted pon farr, they’d reveled in each other’s touch. Perhaps Spock wasn’t the only one who had forgotten the past.

He gazed at his love. “Do you want to?”

“I am drawn to you, to your body. That has disturbed me. But the images this place has evoked bring a deep contentment.”

Kirk hesitantly placed his hand on Spock’s arm. “We could...be together. See if it’s really what you want. If it turns out not to be, well, I suppose I’ll have to live with that. But I’d like to try.”

Spock merely nodded his head and the two started back home without speaking. They didn’t hurry, yet a tension crackled between them through the long walk back.

~~~~~

Kirk stood in the bathroom, wearing only his robe, and stared nervously at the door. Spock would be in bed by now, Kirk having suggested the Vulcan go first to freshen up. They’d passed each other, Spock exiting the bathroom, Kirk entering, and the last thing Kirk had seen as he’d shut the door was Spock approaching the bed and removing his robe before sliding under the covers. He’d had nothing on underneath.

So why was he standing here like a nervous bridegroom? Perhaps because that’s exactly what he felt like. For all intents and purposes, this would be Spock’s first time having sex. This particular body would be virgin and Spock’s mind certainly was.

Kirk bit his lip. So much could go wrong. Finally, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he grabbed the doorknob and with a quick turn of the handle opened the door.

The room was dark but for a small lamp glowing in the corner of the room, its meager light doing little more than casting shadows. You could imagine that it was in the middle of the night rather than midday. After allowing his eyes to adjust, Kirk slowly made his way over to the side of the bed.

Spock was lying on his back, the covers pulled up only to his waist.

Kirk cleared his throat. “Do you still want to do this?”

Spock pushed down the blankets to expose his groin. His cock was erect.

Kirk removed his robe and crawled in next to Spock. He lay on his side and faced the Vulcan. “I’ll go slow, all right?”

“I wish to experience the act as it would have been performed before. I do not wish for you to ‘go slow’.”

“All right.”

Kirk reached out and took Spock’s penis in his hand. He heard the Vulcan hiss as a shudder coursed through his body. Encouraged, Kirk began to slowly manipulate the organ, sliding its length up and down through his closed fist, keeping the pressure constant.

He hesitated before leaning forward to kiss Spock. Somehow, that act seemed so much more intimate than taking the man’s cock in his hand. The relief Kirk felt when Spock opened his mouth to him gave him the courage to deepen the kiss. He probed Spock’s mouth, and felt a surge of arousal when Spock’s tongue wrapped around his.

Kirk moaned deep in his throat when he felt Spock’s hand close around his erection. But he wanted more than just mutual masturbation, so after another minute he broke off the kiss and slid his body further down the bed, away from Spock’s touch. He ended up eye-level with Spock’s groin as he continued to fondle the Vulcan’s penis.

Spock spread his legs wider and thrust his hips in counterpoint to Kirk’s strokes, and it seemed the most logical thing in the world for Kirk to lower his head and replace his hand with his mouth.

With a shout, Spock threw his head back while his hands came up to rest on Kirk’s head. It was all Kirk could do to keep from choking, Spock’s hands pushing forcefully down on him. But then, as if realizing what he was doing, the pressure lifted. Kirk took a breath and continued sucking.

God, he’d forgotten how addictive Spock’s taste was. Droplets of pre-cum were licked away as he lapped the cock with his tongue before taking the organ back into his mouth. But after all these years he knew when Spock was getting close, so when he felt the muscles in Spock’s thighs begin to tighten, he lifted his head, leaving the Vulcan hungry and in need.

Spock panted hoarsely, his eyes saying more than any words could. Kirk quickly came up on his knees and throwing one leg over Spock torso, positioned himself over the Vulcan’s groin.

He’d known what he wanted, so he’d prepared himself ahead of time, his anal passage slick with lubricant. He reached back and grabbed Spock’s penis and, slowly lowering himself, took the organ into his body.

Kirk let out a sigh as the cock stretched him wide, its bulk filling up all the empty places. With each second he took it deeper into his body, until he felt Spock’s pubic hair brush against his ass. He settled himself on top of his lover’s groin, drawing a deep moan from Spock, the Vulcan’s large hands coming to rest on Kirk’s waist.

Leaning forward, Kirk positioned his hands on each side of Spock’s head, and then began to rock his body, the long, thick length of the Vulcan’s cock sliding in and out of him. At some point, Spock took over, lifting Kirk up and down and using his strength to push his cock ever deeper.

The sounds of their hoarse panting were loud to Kirk’s ears, just as the odor of their arousal seemed to fill his nostrils. Seeing his lover beneath him, the cock up his ass nudging his prostate with each entry, the taste of Spock’s precum still in his mouth, it was as if he was taking him in with all five senses.

Kirk knew he was fast approaching orgasm. He grabbed Spock’s hand and pulled it up toward his face. He didn’t expected the shove that pushed him violently away. He let out a yelp and found himself splayed out near the foot of the bed.

He scrambled to his knees. “What the hell did you do that for?”

Spock had sat up and pulled the sheet up to cover himself. Shock and anger radiated off of him. “This was to be an exercise in sexual congress. Nothing was said of a meld.”

“But that’s part if it!”

“Only between bonded pairs.”

Kirk covered his mouth, afraid of what he might say, of what he might do. Spock couldn’t have hurt him more if he’d planned it. Blinking back the tears that threatened, he finally let his hand drop. “Then bond us again. We did it before, just the two of us. We could do it again.”

“Ad—Jim. I do not know if that is truly what I desire.”

Kirk felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “You don’t want us to bond? Ever?”

“I do not know. Without the memories of our past, how could I? Please,” Spock’s tone turned almost pleading, “you must allow me the time to regain what I have lost.”

“And if you never do?”

When Spock didn’t answer him, Kirk slowly backed off of the bed. He picked up his robe and put it on. Without another look, he walked out of the room.

~~~~~

Kirk wasn’t aware of how long he’d been sitting, lost in his misery, before he felt the weight of Spock’s hand on his shoulder.

“What do you want?”

“I wish to apologize. I hurt you, and that was never my intention.”

“You only spoke the truth.”

Spock knelt at his side. “Perhaps, but I may not have spoken that truth well.”

“The truth is the truth.”

“Do you not see? That is the very crux of my concerns. I do not know what the truth of us is.”

Kirk finally turned to look at Spock. The Vulcan had taken the time to don his robe, but it was only loosely tied and his hair was mussed. For some reason, that made Kirk feel slightly better.

“The truth of us is that I love you. Once upon a time, you loved me, too. But you don’t remember that.”

“No, I do not. My body remembers desire, but my mind knows only the facts of our lives, not its substance.”

Kirk couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stay angry with this man. Not when he could see that Spock, too, was hurting. “Maybe there’s another way.”

“Everything has already been tried.”

“No, not everything. I understand that we can’t meld when we...when we make love. But what about any other time?”

“Why would we do such a thing?”

“You don’t remember what we were to each other, but I do. What if you were to share my memories? Maybe it would help you recover yours.”

“That would not be possible, since your memories are not true.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Unlike Vulcans, your memories are not ‘hard-wired,’ not physically etched into your brain. They are, indeed, surprisingly vulnerable and highly dynamic. Each time you remember, you replace the original memory with a slightly modified version. Eventually, you are not really remembering what happened; you are remembering your story of it. Without realizing it, you rewrite the stories of your lives.”

“Are you saying that what I remember as happening between us isn’t true?”

“No, only that it is not truly what happened. That is why the healers rejected the idea of my gaining my memories through you.”

“Spock, that’s crazy.” Kirk cut off Spock’s objection with a wave of his hand. “Okay, maybe not crazy, but I can’t believe that _all_ my memories are...distorted.”

“No, those which you have never attempted to recall are still the original memories.”

Kirk thought about that. There was plenty in his life he’d purposely tried _not_ to remember and some of it involved Spock. “Would you be able to tell the difference?”

“I believe so.”

“Then use those. It can’t hurt, can it? It may very well help.” Kirk pressed his case. “You were the one who said they didn’t know what they were talking about, that no one knew how things would be for you. Why trust them about this when you already suspect they were wrong about other things?”

Spock stared at him, his lips pressed tightly together. Finally, he nodded his head. “Very well. I do not know if it will be successful in returning my memories, but I do wish to remember, Jim. All of it.”

Kirk turned in his chair so that he faced Spock. “Do you want to start now?”

“Yes,” Spock replied as he stood. He extended his hand. “Come, I believe the bedroom would be more conducive to our needs.”

Kirk took his hand and allowed Spock to pull him to his feet. “Why the bedroom?” he asked as he followed Spock into the room.

Spock did not slow down until he reached the bed. He turned to look at Kirk. “It...resonates.”

“Yes, I imagine it does,” he commented under his breath as he straightened the covers and took a seat at the foot of the bed. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Spock sat next to him and without preamble placed his hand on Kirk’s face, his fingers reaching inexorably for the meld points.

Kirk cried out as his mind was invaded. No meld had ever been like this. From the first time their minds had met, it had been an easy flow of one consciousness into the other. This was more like an invasion.

In the maelstrom of the meld, Kirk remembered how McCoy had described it when the Spock of the Mirror universe had forced a meld.

 _“Like someone had scrambled my brains and served them up on toast.”_

He seemed to be losing himself as Spock tore through his memories in a frantic search for those that were ‘real.’ Just as Kirk thought he could take no more, it stopped. He opened his eyes. When the room quit spinning, he realized that Spock was no longer at his side, but had slid off the bed into an inelegant heap on the floor.

Kirk lowered himself down. The Vulcan’s legs were drawn up and his arms hugged them close. His head rested on his knees, his face hidden.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Spock raised his head. There were tears on his face.

“I am still there. After all that has happened, after all you have been through, I am still there.”

“Still where?”

Spock gently placed his hand on Kirk’s chest. “Here, within your heart. As you are in mine.”

Kirk’s breath caught. “You remember?”

“Yes.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Then you must remember that I could never stop loving you, Spock. No matter what you did.”

“Though I do not understand why you would not, I am most appreciative of the fact that you do still love me. For I have left you not once, but twice.”

“I certainly can’t hold your own death against you. As for the other...” he shrugged. “It was a long time ago and you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Have I? I’ve wondered.”

“I’m not saying there weren’t times, especially when you first came back, that I didn’t feel like taking a bat to you, but I couldn’t hold on to the anger. If we were going to be together, I had to let it go. And I loved you too much to ever contemplate any other possibility for us.”

“For which I will be forever thankful.” Spock looked around and then gave Kirk a cryptic smile. “But do you think we could continue this conversation in a more appropriate setting?”

Kirk smiled back and together they struggled to their feet. Leaving off their robes, they stretched out on the bed, their bodies close as they faced each other.

And then it seemed as if the years dropped away as, almost as one, they reached for each other. They were suddenly those two young men of so long ago who had only just discovered their mutual love and desire. The passion and the fever of that time overwhelmed them as they set about relearning the contours and depths of each others bodies and minds.

When Spock rolled him over on his back and settled between his widespread legs, Kirk was more than prepared. He needed this, probably more than Spock did. He’d felt empty far too long.

The burn of his passage being filled was only slightly less a pleasure than the filling of his mind as Spock’s hand came to rest on his face.

Spock’s thrusts were long and deep, Kirk’s hips lifting to meet each one. With his hands wrapped around the Vulcan’s biceps, he clung to his lover and rode out the building tide of sweet pleasure.

“More, deeper. Go deeper.” Kirk didn’t know if he meant into his mind or into his body. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the feel of the first tendrils of the bond reaching for him.

He could feel the bond rebuilding itself. With each stroke his body sparked to the cock that stretched him wide, while his mind opened itself to the reciprocal sensation of Spock’s consciousness penetrating his.

Kirk felt the bond consume him and he threw his head back, crying out as the power of their union triggered an orgasm of overwhelming intensity. He felt his passage flood with the Vulcan’s heat while his soul entwined itself irrevocably around Spock’s.

“We are one.” Spock whispered as his weight settled on Kirk’s lax form.

Spock’s words were little more than a husky moan, but Kirk knew them to be true. Spock was all around and within him. But Kirk also knew that he would never let this go. Even death would not part them again.

~~~~~

Kirk didn’t remember falling asleep. The next thing he knew, the rays of the morning sun were peeking through the drapes. He knew he’d needed the sleep. The tragedies of the last few days had worn him down. He’d lost—.

He sat up, suddenly afraid. But there, next to him, Spock slept. And in his mind, the recently reformed bond hummed contentedly. This wasn’t a dream.

He lay on his side, once again remembering their last time together before Spock’s death. They had tried to never take each other for granted, not in their daily existence nor in bed. Yet last night had been..... Kirk couldn’t find the words to describe what it had been. The same, yet different from their first bonding. One thing Kirk couldn’t deny, it had shattered any complacency he might have had, rebuilt over the years of their time together since Spock’s first leaving. He hoped he could control his need of this most precious man.

“What are you thinking?”

Kirk focused on his lover. “About last night. About how happy I am. I missed you.”

“And I, you.”

“How could you miss me? You didn’t know me.”

“Nevertheless, I did. I did not know that’s what it was, the discontent I felt, the need to have you near. I know now that, all that time, I was looking for you. Here.” He brought his hand up and touched his brow. “And here.” He drew Kirk into his embrace until Kirk’s head pillowed on his shoulder.

“Will it be enough?” Kirk asked.

“I do not understand.”

“When Starfleet finally makes a decision, I could be gone a very long time.”

Spock began to lazily comb his fingers through Kirk’s hair. “I do not believe that will be the case. Above the fact that you saved the planet, we have friends, people in power who will make sure you are not punished for what was an act of love.”

“I wish I could be as confident as you are.”

“Having you back, having _this_ back,” Spock swirled a finger around Kirk’s temple, “I do not believe I could allow any other outcome.”

“And you don’t mind that your memories aren’t what they were?” Kirk asked. It bothered him that what he remembered might not be exactly what happened. He realized that was how it was for all humans, but, still, it bothered him.

“Ah, but they are.”

Kirk pulled himself up enough to look into Spock’s face. “But I thought you said—”

“I was in error. Apparently, the long years of our bond had changed the workings of your brain until it became a hybrid of Vulcan and Terran. What you remember is true. I cannot vouchsafe for those memories before our bonding, but those afterwards are as real as those of any Vulcan.”

Kirk grinned. He liked that. He had the best of both worlds, in his head and in his arms. “Want to make some more memories?” he asked. His grin widened for a moment as he was pulled back down, only to happily give way to the pleasure that was theirs.

 

Finis

 

 

 _Beyond the Sea, beyond the sun,  
Till my last weary sand was run,  
Till then—and then—I'd love thee._

 _'O, Were I On Parnassus Hill'  
Robert Burns ~ 1788_


End file.
